A Force to be Reckoned With
by Cheryl W
Summary: SW crossover. The brothers are Jedi Knights. These few last Jedi fight against the Empire’s forces and fight for each other. Sap alert. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

A Force to be Reckoned With

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: If you don't like AU, then this story is not for you. This craziness came to me because of a few factors: I wanted to write something action packed and encouraging, I'm reading a Star Wars book, have seen Star Trek and loved the idea of the boys being Jedi Knights. So, I left my common sense at the door as well as this reality and set the boys down into the Star Wars universe. They aren't hunters but Jedi Knights. And the time frame is after Revenge of the Sith and the Rebel Alliance has already been formed. No SW characters actually appear in this tale, only the SW universe.

Forgive my poor handle on the lingo. I think I ended up with a sad cross between Star Wars and Star Trek techno babble. Hopefully that doesn't ruin the story for the true blue SW fans…I'm a true blue fan…just not smart enough to speak their language.…

Summary: Total AU. The brothers are Jedi Knights. These few last Jedi fight against the Empire's forces and fight for each other. Sap alert. No slash.

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Standing on the bridge of the Rebel Alliance battleship, _Stanford_, Captain Samuel Winchester, dressed in the attire of the Jedi, a black tunic and gleaming black boots, watched the battle ensue among the stars. Watched intently as the gathered ships, small and large of the Imperial and Rebel forces sustained damages and inflicted them. The Force was nearly overloading him with emotions but he had learned to tune them mostly out, to focus on what mattered most to him. And right now, paramount in his concern, was the fate of the Rebel battleship, _Impala_.

He fisted his hands as the _Impala_ broke through the Imperial barricade, seemingly unconcerned that it had to batter its way through the debris of ships that had just exploded in front of its path seconds prior. He nearly gritted his teeth, as one Imperial battleship seemed to scrap along the _Impala's_ hull as it was pushed out of the way. And then the _Impala_ was clear of the graveyard of its foes…but Sam's gut and the Force were screaming at him that worst things waited in the asteroid field that the _Impala_ was headed for.

"Open a communication channel to the _Impala_, now," he tersely ordered, stepping forward to stand directly behind his communication officer's chair even as his eyes remained fixed outside the viewport, onto the _Impala_'s progress.

"Channel open, sir," the officer crisply replied, knew that as easy going as the Captain could be, there were certain circumstances that could turn his superior into a fearful commander. That times like this he didn't discount the rumors that had once been bandied about that this particular Winchester had flirted with the Dark Side. And along with that tale went the one about the _other_ Winchester captain, the one they were hailing now.

Without even thinking of proper protocol, Sam nearly shouted, "Dean, don't go into the asteroid field! I have a .."

"Bad feeling…" came Captain Dean Winchester's amused voice into the _Stanford_'s bridge.

Sam couldn't help the low growl he gave, his brother always bringing out the worst…and best in him, and simultaneously annihilating any peace his Force training would have bestowed on him. "Yes! I think it's a trap."

"I know it's a trap," the elder Winchester drawled, " but they won't come out and play until someone walks into it. We'll all just be sitting ducks here, unable to move forward and they've already had some of their ships drop in behind our forces."

"So you propose to provoke a fight to the death here?! With you, of course, assigning yourself as the bait," Sam countered, railing against his brother's recklessness, bravery, loyalty and willingness to sacrifice himself before others.

"No one can resist me, you know," Dean cockily returned even as he gave terse orders to his bridge command to slow down their approach, to enforce their shields and sent a group of X-Wings into the asteroid field from the left.

Overhearing Dean's command gave Sam more confidence in his brother's plan…didn't mean he didn't feel it was a colossal risk. "I'm not saving your butt, you hear me. If some …._Dark_ _Lord_ wants to make you his apt pupil, I'm just going to read about it in the holo-rag sheets."

"Oh, Sammy, you know you don't mean that. Sides, you carry the black so much better than I do," Dean returned, a lightness and a fondness in his tone, even amid the loud crashing in the background as the _Impala_ sustained more hits from another Imperial Cruiser and started to creep into the asteroid field.

"Dean, don't do this!?" Sam called out in worry, hands gripping the back of the communication officer's chair so tightly the plastic nearly broke.

But his brother was as stubborn as ever. "When they come at me from the asteroid field, don't waste time figuring out where not to shoot. Just annihilate the asteroids and everything else that gets in your way and make it to the other side of the planet. And stay tight together cause the gravitational pull in this field, it's a monster, Sam. Is tossing us around," and Sam could hear his brother give a startled gasp of air that turned into a grunt of pain as he was 'tossed around.' "The debris, in your wake, it has the potential to tear anything apart not glued to your six..like any Imperial ships that want to follow you."

"And how are you going to get clear?" Sam demanded, wanted to believe Dean had a plan to live. That his brother had to have a way to survive his reckless plan because it was not just his life at stake, was all the crew aboard the _Impala_ as well.

"Oh, I got some tricks up my sleeve. Sammy…"but static obliterated Dean's next words "don't……you…..Promise." And then static filled the bridge of the _Stanford_ as Sam looked out the viewport, saw the _Impala_ disappear from his sight as it slipped into the asteroid field.

Growling out a curse, Sam stalked forward until his hand rested against the window, his eyes on the space where his brother..his brother's ship was moments ago. Over his shoulder he ordered, "Tell the other ships to be ready to blast their way into the asteroid field at my command, with Battleship _Colt_, taking lead. Tell them to keep close in line and to be wary of enemy squadrons." Then almost as a begrudgingly afterthought, he tacked on, "And for the love of the Rebel Alliance, tell them to NOT shoot at my idiot brother." Even as the Communication Officer began conveying his orders, Sam growled under his breath, "Killing Dean is going to be my privilege." But even the Force couldn't give him the strength to dampen the fear that was slipping past all his defenses, always had: The fear that he would lose his brother…maybe even that very day.

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Pressing his hand to the side of his untraditional blue Jedi Knight tunic, Captain Dean Winchester grimaced in pain, looked at the blood coating his hand in frustration rather than worry. Almost angrily, he wiped his hand on his pants and focused on the asteroid field that now encompassed them and the Imperial Cruiser that was sliding into view. Tricky black hearted Imperials were right where he thought they would be. '_Good thing I'm trickier_,' he grimly thought, knew that the Rebel armada would have been cut to shreds if they had inadvertently drawn closer to the asteroid field, not realizing the danger.

"Captain, our engines are now down to 43% and the hyperdrive, it's pretty much fried like you suspected," the Engineer officer reported, his voice grave, knew that they had little hope of limping home…and that was before they made the push to the asteroid field. He understood that the hopelessness of their situation, it had prompted the Captain's orders to become bait, to make themselves useful one last time. But it had taken every last measure of his loyalty to his Captain not to cut into the transmission with the Captain's brother, to not tell the younger man that his brother was on a doomed mission, that he should say his goodbyes now. However, his loyalty had stayed his tongue, though he had looked imploringly to his superior, mouthed, '_Tell him, Dean_,' because his Captain wasn't merely his superior but was his friend. Had witnessed enough of the interaction between the brothers to know that the stories were true, all of them. The only thing that had saved Samuel Winchester's soul from going Dark Side was his brother's stead fast faith in him and love for him. Just as the only thing that had tethered Dean Winchester's soul to life after that debacle in the Hellspawn system was his younger brother's unrelenting adoration and love. Honestly, he didn't know where each brother would be without the other. Knew that, sadly, the world was about to witness that transformation in Samuel Winchester in only a few short hours, when his big brother's fate became known.

But the bleak status of his ship's engine and hyperdrive didn't phase Captain Winchester, instead he stepped forward, leaned over Fire Control Officer's shoulders to view the readout. "Take us further into the field, let's make them work for it at least," as if to punctuate his words, the ship rocked to the left, had everyone standing stumbling and everyone sitting struggling to not land on the ground. "And yeah, let _him_ take some damage from the asteroids, same as us. Put the shield to encompass the ship and ready the barrage of torpedoes to take this Cruiser apart." Turning to the Communication's officer he said, "And tell the X-Wings to find the other Cruiser lurking in here, probably in the north east corridor."

"Other cruiser sir?" The officer asked, not in defiance but surprise.

Dean smirked darkly, "Have you ever known the Empire to do things small? They would drag a Death Star in here waiting for us if they could have kept it off our sensors."

Without further hesitation, the officer gave the order over the internal comlink.

Heading back to his command chair, Dean was knocked off his feet as the ship collided with a fast moving chuck of asteroid. From the ground he ordered, "Punch us through some of this debris, make the Cruiser take up pursuit." Under him, he could feel the ship surge forward, was jarred as it literally plowed through more of the small asteroids. It was a deuced bad time to find himself trying to gain his feet, was surprised when an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him to his feet. He was steadied against his Engineer Officer's shorter frame and they lumbered together to his command chair. "You should be at your post," he lowly said, the reprimand not for anyone's ears but his friend's.

"Yeah, and you should have told Sam how bad off we were," the officer whispered back, depositing his Captain into his chair, surprised when he looked at his hand and saw it was covered in blood.

"Why? So Sam could risk someone else trying to save us?!" Dean countered, knew that it was bad enough he was costing his crew their lives, didn't want to add to that tally. Certainly didn't want to add Sam to the list of people dying with him.

Pulling back, the officer met Dean's eyes head on, "How about so he could say goodbye…so you could."

Dean looked away, "Goodbyes are overrated…"

"Yeah, and so are heroes but it's never deterred you both from being a couple of them," the officer grumbled back, earning him his Captain's sharp gaze. "No disrespect meant, sir."

Dean pulled on a sad but real smile, "None taken. Guess it's been a family tradition. Now get back to your station so we can go out in style."

Giving a shake of his head but a smile in return, the officer did his Captain's bidding.

Shifting in his seat, wincing at the stab of pain, Captain Winchester ordered, "Alright, run into one of the bigger asteroid chunks and grind to a halt."

"Hit one…on purpose, sir?" the just recently assigned to the _Impala_ navigator asked incredulously. He had heard stories about Captain Dean Winchester being a wild card but this?! This was beyond his ability to understand.

"Yup, make it look like we're out of commission, Navigator. Once the cruiser is lured in, bank right and we'll fire torpedoes on my mark," Dean explained, knew his crew was following his orders to their deaths, that they deserved to have his respect and to be in his confidence here at the last. "We aim our torpedoes right, they'll split her in two, send her spiraling into more asteroid and hopefully help to make a hole for our ships to slip through."

There was a silence on the bridge a moment and he found a few members of his staff simply staring at him, not in disagreement to his orders…but in awe. He nearly blushed, shrugged uncomfortably instead, "Guess you won't find this tactic in any text book…"

"Doesn't mean it shouldn't be," his second in command returned, coming to stand at his side with a grim but determined smirk on his lips.

"My brother would love that…me getting in a textbook," Dean snorted, shaking his head, knowing that as much as Sam would tease him about it…his brother would be proud of him '_But not more proud than I am of you, Sam. Sorry I'm not going to be around to see you become a Jedi Master,'_ he thought as the Navigator did as he was ordered and plowed the _Impala _into a asteroid that shook the hull and practically caused the ship to crumble apart.

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"One of our ships bordering the asteroid field report that an Imperial Crusier just came unto their grids. Inside the asteroid field. The _Impala_, her plan, its working, Captain," the Navigator on the _Stanford_ reported, surprise and awe in his tone.

"Course it is, this is my brother we're talking about here," Captain Samuel Winchester, drawled, half in bitterness and half in pride as he watched one Rebel ship after another dove into the asteroid field to elude the vicious attack of the Imperial's Cruisers entrenched around the convoy in the open arena of space, set to destroy them. "Any readings from the _Impala_, from that sector of the asteroid field?" he inquired for the fifth time, praying that this time the answer would be different.

He was bound to be disappointed. "No, sir. The field is too thick in the western quadrant. I can't detect the _Impala_ or the configuration of the asteroid field…or any Imperial ships either."

"Oh they are there," Sam drawled, knew it was a certainty by the clamoring of the Force and the instincts that had kept him alive long before he knew the Force even existed within him. Knew it just as resolutely because _Dean_ said they were there. But he couldn't help wish that his brother was wrong this time. Wished just as valiantly that he could determine the cause of the darkness that was seeping into the Force, was nearly choking him. It was not the temptation of the Dark Side…was something more, something more sinister…a malicious glee of the anticipation of a victory. And yet, that made no sense. He knew they were foiling the Imperial ambush, were not going to win this battle but were going to escape with most of their numbers intact.

It hit him then like blaster fire, had him stumbling back, his hand fumbling for the side of chair to keep himself upright. _Dean!_ Dean was in danger. Was more than the vibe he got when faced with his brother's usual reckless ways, wasn't even all about the brashness of Dean playing bait. Was about …. Dean leaving. Dean giving up. Dean dying. Reaching out in the Force for his brother, he latched onto his brother's subconscious, felt his brother's thoughts a moment before the connection was brutally severed. '_But not more proud than I am of you, Sam. Sorry I'm not going to be around to see you become a Jedi Master.'_

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"No!" Sam shouted, stumbling forward as if his brother was just within reach, that their link through the Force could be solidified, could bring his brother to his side. Unmindful of the attention his erratic behavior was garnering from his bridge crew, he stalked to the Navigator, "How long until the last of our ships are in the asteroid field?" when the Navigator punched keys onto his keyboard instead of answering, Sam thundered, "How long?!"

"About fifteen minutes. We only have to hold the Imperials' off another fifteen minutes," the Navigator hurriedly reported, not daring to shift his eyes from his workstation to his Captain's fierce face.

"Fifteen minutes," Sam mumbled, hurriedly crossing to the Navigation console, hands flipping through the technical readout screens almost faster than the human eye could process.

From across the bridge the communications officer called out, "Report coming in from a member of the _Impala_'s X-Wing squadron." The name of the his brother's ship caused Sam's head to snap up, drew his full focus to his Communication Officer's features. "There's a 2nd Cruiser in the north eastern section of the asteroid field. The X-Wing Squadron managed to damage its forward shields and do some hull damage but the Cruiser is still limping its way toward our convoy."

Sam clenched his fist, "Notify the Battleship _Colt_ that they have an obstacle in their path."

"Sir, communications are not working that far into the asteroid field."

"Alright, send the X-wing back in the asteroid field with the communiqué but ask him one question before he leaves." The Communication officer waited almost looked to his Captain but then his superior spoke, "Ask him the status of the _Impala_ when he left her."

Quickly conveying the order and the question, the officer grimaced at the news, braced himself for his Captain's reaction. "Order conveyed, sir and the _Impala_, her engines were damaged and her hyperdrive drive was off line and they were engaging a Cruiser when the squadron was ordered to search for the 2nd Cruiser."

At the news, Sam felt his chest constrict and his heart falter. It was a deadman's mission. Dean had known his ship was beyond saving, would be a weakness to anyone trying to help them limp home. Had chosen to make his ship's last stand a worthy one. Idiot was planning on _dying_ on him.

Through the Force he channeled to his brother, knew that a friggin' asteroid field was no match for his anger, knew his words, they would reach Dean, would tell his brother what he thought of his piss poor plan. '_Screw you Dean!!! I'm not going to let you die! You're just going to have to wait a good long while before you can go down in the Jedi annuals as a dead hero because I'm going to save you, you nerf herding idiot!'_

"Navigator, set us on a course for the _Impala_'s last position before they entered the asteroid field. Communication officer, order the Frigate _Rocksalt_ to bring up the rear on the convoy and herd everyone to the far side of the planet. Have someone in our docking bay prepare to receive the _Impala_'s fighter and transport ships and have someone prepare temporary quarters for the _Impala's_ crew," Sam calmly ordered, knew his course as if it had already been traveled as he sank into his Command chair.

His second in command came to his side and he could feel the older man's indecision and objections but he didn't cut off the man's words, let him speak, would let anyone do anything they wanted as long as they didn't get in his way. The second in command's voice was pitched low, as if he didn't want his objections to be heard by the bridge crew. "Captain, I know he's your brother, sir, but you are putting all our lives in jeopardy unnecessarily. Dean knew the risks, he chose this path. He saved us, Sir." When his words didn't even get a reaction from his Captain, he gripped his superior's wrist, found his friend's eyes coming up to meet his with steely resolve. "Sam, Dean would want you saved most of all." But there was a bleakness in his Captain's eyes, something he had glimpsed a time or two, that sent a shiver of fear down his spine, spoke of darkness and pain and no redemption.

"You don't get it, do you?" Sam asked dangerously, his voice bitter even as it quaked. "If I lose Dean, what I'll become if I lose my brother…" he seemed to catch himself and bite his lip a moment before a cruel smile turned up his lips. "I'll make Emperor Palpatine look like a saint. Trust me when I tell you that you _want_ me to save my brother. And God help the Alliance if I don't," and his words were a threat and a prayer alike.

Sliding his hand from Sam's wrist, the second in command took a retreating step backwards, felt some raw power in his Captain that he had glimpsed before and had naively attributed to his Force power. But this…this was more than the flow of the Force. This was the power honed by a bond stronger than the Force, was about the unfathomable tie between the two brothers that even the powers of Dark and Light had had to concede to.

Knowing that the argument was closed, the second in command simply asked the mechanics of what was being proposed, "The smaller ships the _Impala_ crew will use to board us, they won't stand too much abuse by the asteroids and in the turbulent forces of the asteroid field, we'll be lucky to hold our position steady enough to allow the most seasoned pilots to land in our bay. Not to mention the damage we will sustain, taking on the Imperial Cruiser with only one, damaged ship to back our play."

"We're saving the _Impala_," Sam stated roughly, his eyes warning his second in command to not raise more question, to not doubt the lengths he would go, the way he would use the Force to see that his brother was saved.

"Sir, yes, sir," the _Stanford_'s second in command curtly replied, accepting that, like so many times before, his fate lay in the hands of his Captain. Loyally, he stood erect at his captain's side and checked on the docking bay's progress.

"Navigator, take us into the asteroid field at the _Impala_'s insertion point and follow her ion trail. Front deflector shields on full," Sam commanded, his Force connection screaming that there was little time left to undo what it foresaw, to change fate..to change his fate as much as his brother's.

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TBC

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Thanks to anyone reading this story! Hope it's entertaining in some fashion… I do have it all written out, just needs polished up by my beta. So it shouldn't take me long to post it all if I get some encouraging reviews.

And yes, I'm still dedicated to my two other stories…just struggling with stepping back into their mindsets to update them. But be assured, I'm going to finish both Designated Driver and It's in the Genes. Just got sidetrack like I always do with another plot idea.

Have a wonderful evening!

Cheryl W.


	2. Chapter 2

A Force to be Reckoned With

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Thanks for everyone who dared to read this crossover and who was generous enough to encourage me to continue!

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Chapter 2

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A wave of the Force washed over Dean a moment before consciousness …and pain followed on its heels. Blinking his vision into focus, he again was viewing the bridge from the floor but even from that vantage point, he could see sparks flying from some of the boards, smoke was wafting in the air and most of his crew was on the bridge floor like he was. Knowing that seconds couldn't be wasted, even in the midst of a suicide, he rolled onto his side, gave a surprised, groan as a sharp pain emanated from his side and flared out to any nerve ending he had.

Lumbering to his feet with the aid of the banister, he stumbled to the empty chair at Navigation, found his fingers could still deftly skim across the controls to bring up the data grids. The results were grim: the Imperial Cruiser was directly behind them, had not waited for his ruse, had decided to actually make their Dead-in-the-Water pretense reality. Without looking to his right, he knew his Engineer Officer was back manning his station, awaiting his next order. "How are our deflector shields after that?"

"Rear shields are at 45%. Other shields remain at 100%, Captain," the Engineer Officer supplied.

"Reroute 90% of the power to the flank side. Navigator, bring this beast around slowly. Let them think about taking their best shot at our flank and begin a 5% drop in altitude. We'll draw them in and, when they open up with the rockets, we'll drop out of the way and let them blast apart the large asteroid behind us. The debris will rain down on them like a hailstorm…get sucked right into their engines…"

The Navigator smiled, knew just what debris in engines could do: cause the Imperial Cruiser to implode from the inside out. It was a brilliant plan, was as ingenious as it was reckless. And he had no need to mention their own close proximately to the asteroid would put them in the same danger. He knew they were already dead. That the only thing left to do was finish the mission, take out the Cruiser so it couldn't attack the convoy from the rear and sandwich the Rebel ships between the Cruiser his Captain believed was in the northern quadrant and the Cruiser they had coming up fast behind them.

As the Navigator Officer stumbled back to his position, Dean stood back, let his well trained crewmembers do their duties. Watched in pride as his officers set to the tasks he had ordered of them, even knowing that it would be their last stand, their last chance to pledge their loyalty and lives to the Alliance. "Fire Control, tell me when the Cruiser's proximity is within our laser range. Navigator, put us at a 20% angle on the port side, let 'em think we're drifting, crippled."

Through his side viewport, he could see the impressive Cruiser drawing closer, hesitant, wondering if its prey were as defenseless as it was acting. "Communications, put out a distress signal."

"Sir…the asteroids just send the messages pinging back to us. None of our ships are close enough to receive our signal," the Communication officer nervously pointed out his Captain's flaw.

Dean smiled wolfishly, "Oh, the only ship I need to hear it is the Empire's. And code them, make them think they've really accomplished something by intercepting and decoding them."

"Ah, Captain, Sir. Message sent."

Drawing in a breath, Dean closed his eyes, willed the Force to help him shut out his physical pain, to let him detect the enemy's movements as if he were there on their bridge, hearing their commands. But he couldn't fight the overwhelming need to search for his brother's signature among the Force's pull, to connect to his brother maybe for the last time. He nearly stumbled when his brother's life force seemed to send an electric charge to him, to coil around him. Then it was as if Sam was right there, yelling in his ear, '_Screw you Dean!!! I'm not going to let you die! You're just going to have to wait a good long while before you can go down in the Jedi annals as a dead hero because I'm going to save you, you nerf herding idiot!'_

Eyes flying open, he shot back across the Force, _'No, Sam! Don't come after me! It's too late!' _Could just begin to feel the tendril's of Sam's force essence when he realized it truly was too late. Too late to send another message to Sam, too late to have regrets, too late to do anything but follow through with his plan.

"Cruiser is within laser range sir and she seems ready to fire her torpedoes," his officer announced, though it was unneeded. Dean already knew that, had broken whatever slim connection he had just made with Sam at the realization that he had to be there for his crew, had to make his last moments to be about them…not about him, not about his need to say goodbye to Sam, to send a part of himself through the Force to Sam so that his brother knew he would always be with him. A Jedi's life could not be about sentimentality…Yoda had lectured on that time and time again. And Dean had always wondered, '_Then why did the Force even give us families?! Give me Sam if I'm not supposed to value him more, if I'm just supposed to treat him just like another asset to get a Jedi's mission done?!_' There had never been an answer to that question, not in his own soul and never from any Jedi's text book he had ever read. So he had determined, that, like in all things, Winchesters were the exception to every rule. '_Well maybe we're not, after all_,' he thought but it gave him sorrow instead of satisfaction to be proven wrong, to find that duty would come before his brother. That duty, that loyalty to the Alliance, to his crew would take him from his brother, would separate him and Sam forever.

"Navigator, on my mark, cut the repulsion engines and let us free fall," Dean tersely said, eyes on his enemy, his Force perception attuned to the Cruiser captain's mood. The Empire's Captain was a decisive man and Dean barely had out "Mark!" when his Imperial counterpart commanded, "Fire!"

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Following a trial of ion distinctive to the _Impala_'s engines, the _Stanford_ entered the asteroid field, found that the word close was reinvented here among the minefield of asteroid chunks. "Don't waste our lasers, just nudge through the smaller asteroids and dodge the bigger ones," Sam ordered, voice calm now that he was on his way to Dean, that he could almost convince himself that his resolve was stronger than any twisted whims of fate or the whisperings of near glee from the Dark Side.

"Sir, Imperial cruiser on my sensors! We'll be upon it in once we round this nearest large asteroid cluster," his Navigation officer supplied, voice full of urgency.

"And the _Impala_?"

The officer checked his sensors, waited a moment longer than most, knew his Captain expected results, needed them. "Wait, it's faint but I have her, Sir. I would project her position…" the navigator swung his look to his Captain's. "The Cruiser is bearing down on the _Impala_ sir, has engaged her if the readings of particles in the atmosphere are correct."

"Get us into position to target the cruiser. Now!" Sam barked, hands fisted at his side again as he felt his ship obey his command, as the sight out the bridge viewport shifted from being filled by an asteroid to the unholy sight of the Imperial ship…confronting the listlessly drifting _Impala_. He was opening his mouth to give the command to open fire upon the Cruiser when the Imperials let loose two torpedoes. '_NOOOO_!' screamed through Sam's head a second before his viewport filled with a flash of light. The explosion produced a backlash of gravity that pummeled the _Stanford. _Then a hailstorm of asteroids bombarded the _Stanford's_ deflector shield and some slipped their way through to pound against the hull.

As his ship rocked under his feet, Sam Winchester, reputed Jedi Knight and Captain, stood immobile on the bridge, eyes unblinkingly staring out the front viewport even as his crew and his ship fought for survival. The klaxon echoed throughout the ship, screaming of sever damages, of danger but he didn't even blink. _Couldn't_! Not when his connection to the Force was winking out, not when he was willingly releasing the death grip he had always had on life. Found that, not much else mattered but joining his brother in the Force, of leaving before he became the monster he knew lurked in his soul now that his only anchor of light was _gone._

"Sir! Sir!" the Second in Command gripped his Captain's arm but it did him no good, didn't break his Captain's stare from the viewport, from the last place they had seen the _Impala_ which was now a dense grid of asteroids chucks and ship debris…all heading their way. "We need to get out of this asteroid field or we'll be torn to shreds!" Getting no reaction, he stepped in front of his Captain, gripped his tall friend's shoulders and shook him. "Sam! Dean risked himself to save you! Risked his crew to save us and the rest of the Rebel convoy! Don't throw his sacrifice away!"

_Sacrifice._ The word snagged onto the fledgling shards of Sam's soul that hadn't yet fled. Sacrifice was all Winchesters knew how to do. And Dean, he was…he had been the master of it. '_Regardless if anyone wanted that from him._' With eyes black with sorrow and loss, Sam looked to his friend, heard the klaxon for the first time, knew that his crew, his ship, they would die with him if he didn't get himself together…at least for a little while. "Take us back to a position behind one of the larger asteroids, give us some shelter."

"But sir…"

"Do it!" Sam growled, refusing to go far, to run away until he could decipher what had happened, could determine if the Imperial ship was destroyed. Wasn't going anywhere until he knew, absolutely, if there was any small glimmer of his brother's soul among the graveyard of asteroids. If there was any lingering part of his brother for him to cling to, to steal away in his heart to carry him into a future, even if that future could only boast of loneliness and despair. Because, his friend was right, Dean sacrificed himself so he could live and he couldn't throw that gift away…no matter how bitter a gift it was.

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It happened in slow motion, like he had used the Force to perceive an attack. Dean felt the _Impala_ begin to free fall as the Imperial Cruiser opened fire, as he watched the torpedoes streak for them. "Brace for impact!" he yelled because they weren't going to get away clean, doubted if, in the end, they would get away at all. '_But we'll take this Cruiser with us,_' he vowed before the torpedoes scored across the top of the _Impala_'s hull, ripped away some of the deflector shield and sensor dishes and headed for the asteroid behind them.

"Full deflector shields on starboard!" he shouted.

"Engines sir?!" came instantly from his second in command, voice raised in fear as much as to be heard among the clamor of the klaxon and the grind of asteroid and gravity against their hull.

"No! No engines, we'll …" his next words were ripped from him as the torpedoes impacted with the asteroid, obliterated it into thousands, millions of pieces that was now as lethal as shrapnel. His Navigator had obeyed him without hesitation, had not ignited their engines, kept the _Impala_ free falling. It was the only reason they didn't suffer the same fate as the Cruiser as the asteroids were flung far and wide, bombarded the Cruiser's deflection shields into surrender and rained down into the Imperial ship's engine. The unstable minerals in the asteroid's already super heated particles mixed badly with the engines' white hot blaze. In a flash of blinding light, the Imperial battleship imploded, adding its debris to the storm of asteroid particles heading for the _Impala_.

With no engines on line to counter the battering of its hull, the _Impala_ went into a roll as asteroid and Imperial debris alike tore into his weakened armor. Only one of the bridge crew remained in his chair, at his station as the ship spun, with only the gravitational system keeping them from ending up against walls and ceiling instead of on the floor.

With a white knuckled grip and with Force wielded strength, Dean was still in his command chair. But found he had no one at their stations to follow his commands. Using the Force, he flicked a switch on the Engineer's console and he heard the engines of the _Impala_ come to life. The ship still rocked under the assault outside but she basically held her place in space now that her engines were online, defied the whims of gravity and even inertia. Defied them but couldn't wholly counter them, which was proven as the _Impala_ was shoved back a few meters under the wave of pressure, far enough to intersect brutally with a huge asteroid's elliptic rotation.

Dean could practically feel his ship coming apart, knew through the Force and within his gut, when his ship was torn asunder by the asteroid they had collided with, that had collided with them. Knew that parts of his ship, levels and areas of his ship were gone before the ship's automotive warning system's synthetic voice began its mantra. "Ship's airlock has been breached in levels 2, 3, 4, and the hangar bay. Fire in sections A through I. Hull breach at 45% shipwide."

A human voice spoke across the bridge, "Sir, deflector shields down to 20% and falling. Whatever small reserves of power we had for the engines, they are gone now," the engineer officer reported, eyes moving from his console to his Captain, who sat in his command chair, calm, prepared to meet his fate, their fate.

"Report on the Cruiser," Dean ordered, watched as the navigator crewmember slid back into his chair to consult the sensors.

"Destroyed sir," the navigator announced, awe and pride in his tone as he faced his Captain.

Taking in a deep inhale of breath, Dean activated his shipwide communication. "This is the Captain. We've destroyed the cruiser and hopefully gave the rest of our convoy the time and means to regroup behind the planet, to find a jump window for hyperspace. I'm sorry that I can't save us but know that, without your sacrifice, all our friends and family would have been killed here today. I'm proud of all of you and so it the Rebel Alliance. Captain out."

Clicking off the comlink, Dean winced as he leaned more heavily back into his chair, viewed the destruction on the battle deck, the flashing red lights on consoles spread out through the workstations. In the shape they were in, they wouldn't be able to break free of the gravitational pull of the asteroid field, couldn't limp to the closest planet, no matter that it was Imperial held. And he couldn't offer up a distress beacon. Wouldn't. Knew it would mean death to whatever ship came for them because the Imperials would soon venture into the asteroid fields in droves, would find them, would destroy them. The ship rocked under another collision with the asteroid that had already maimed them. '_Course maybe the asteroid fields will do us in before the Empire can,_' he ruefully thought. Knew either way, their fate would be the same: they would drift here among the remains of rocks that might have once supported life a million years ago. Would themselves become debris in space, a warning and a hazard to wayward travelers.

He knew it felt wrong to feel alone surrounded by his crew, with the Force connecting him to the universe. But he couldn't weaken the hold of loneliness. Knew that only one person could. But he was glad Sam wasn't there, wasn't sharing his fate. Wished the Force to take good care of his little brother, especially since he would no longer have that honor.

Closing his eyes, shutting out the chaos around him, Dean concentrated on the Force, wrapped himself in it but didn't relinquish his soul into his keeping, not yet. Would not go before the last of his crew. Would guard them until they all drew the last of their breath, forsook this life for the next. No, what he sought now in the Force was selfish, not selfless. He could tell himself that it was for his brother but he knew it was for himself. He couldn't leave without knowing that Sam was safe, found he wouldn't willingly join the Force without saying goodbye to his brother.

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'_Sam, are you through the_ _asteroid field? Are you safe?'_

'_Dean?!_' Sam exclaimed through the Force, joy and fear coiled in his voice as he sank into his command chair before his legs gave out on him. '_Are you…still …alive_?' hope and desperation churning in him, breath held waiting for his brother's reply. He had heard tales of the most powerful Jedi being able to transcend death through the Force, to communicate to the living.

'_Ah, yeah. I'm talking….well thinking at you, aren't I?! Are you …Ok, Sam_?' Dean's smart aleck tone that morphed to concern came across the Force like his brother was at his side, was there with him.

'_I am now_,' Sam answered, hoping his audible laughter crossed to his brother as easily as it echoed across the _Stanford_'s bridge. '_Where are you Dean? We lost you on our grids_.' Even as he stepped up to his Navigator and tersely ordered, "The _Impala_'s out there, find it," not caring that his crew was looking at him like he had finally snapped, had finally broken under the pressure.

"Sir, we've been scanning…"

"Find it. _Please_," he implored instead of ordered, saw the Navigational officer's protest turn to loyalty to his Captain.

"Sir, yes, sir," the officer quickly returned before he poured over his scanners, desperate to provide the hope his Captain needed. Proof of the miracle that his Captain believed in.

Humbled by the officer's loyalty to him, Sam felt a swell of gratitude hit him. He wasn't going to have to search for Dean on his own. Someone else, at least one person on this ship was going to help him.

"I'll have our sensors sift through the debris, follow ion trails, possible vector projectors for the _Impala_," his second in command announced, earning him his Captain's nod of agreement and a look of heartfelt indebtedness before he set to his self-assigned task.

With his search for Dean valiantly aided by his crew, Sam felt some of his fear for his brother's life lessen. Then he remembered Dean hadn't answered his question, hadn't told him his status or location. He was about to demand the answers when Dean did his big brother thing and focused on him.

'_The question is, where are you? Has the convoy made it to the other side of the planet yet?' _came Dean's worried yet hopeful inquiry.

'_I don't know, Dean.' _Sam honestly answered, felt only a tad guilty for putting his personal needs above the Rebellion's. But only a little.

"_What? Why not?!' _Then was a pause in their communication. A pause Dean didn't fill because he was putting the pieces together. And Sam didn't fill because he wasn't going to defend his choice, not to Dean. Dean never accepted that he was worth a risk or two, was worth Sam's life.

'_You're not with the convoy are you?" _There wasa deadliness in Dean's tone. But Sam knew the anger wasn't brought on by Dean's disapproval that he wasn't watching the convoy's back, was about Sam putting himself at risk…for him.

Instead of denying or defending himself, Sam heatedly restated his prior declaration._ 'I told you I wasn't letting you go down in the Jedi annals as some hero…not yet, Dean. We followed your ion trail into the field, came upon the Imperial cruiser right before it fired on you and then. By Force, Dean, I thought you were dead! The Impala…she just went off our grid…like the Cruiser did.' _And he knew his voice, even the voice that carried through the Force, it was trembling, conveyed his torment and terror at the belief that Dean had been killed, was lost to him.

"Sir! I've getting something in the southern quadrant. It's the _Impala_!' the Navigational officer reported with enthusiasm.

"Bring us to her side," Sam instructed then shot his look to his Engineer officer. "Our damage report?"

"Minimal. Our deflector shields held off most of the debris, Sir."

Relief washed over Sam. As much as he didn't hesitate to forfeit his life for his brother's, he didn't want his crew to pay for his choices with their lives. As the _Stanford_ nudged and scraped its way through the asteroid field, the _Impala_ came into sight out the bridge's viewport. Instantly, he felt like he had been ejected into space, that his lungs were frozen, were useless. If fire wasn't still flickering from numerous sections of the _Impala_, the Rebel craft would have looked like a long forgotten drifting relic, its hull punched with holes, seemingly moving only at the whims of the asteroid collision and the pull of the gravitational field.

"Dean," he breathed in horrific wonder, wasn't sure if it were aloud or in his head, reached his brother or just his bridge staff. Knew that, had he not been connecting with Dean internally within the Force, he would have crumbled under the weight of loss, of despair, certain that his brother, his anchor to the Light side was dead. "Damage to the _Impala_?" he asked, voice low, as if he were talking over the body of a dying comrade.

"She's dead in the water, sir," the Navigator gave in reply, hated his choice of words when he saw his Captain wince. "I mean…her engines are not on, her gravitational generator seems to be offline …and her deflector shields are down to 17% and …" the officer broke off his report with a sharp inhale of breath.

Sensing more bad news, Captain Winchester faced his officer, calmly insisted, "What?"

"Her hangar bay, it looks like it took a direct hit either from the Cruiser or some of the asteroid fallout." Then, he paused, knew what he was about to say, how it would affect his Captain, how it would snuff out the hope that was reborn only minutes prior. "The damage, it's extensive. I doubt if any ship is getting in or out of there. I'm sorry, sir." But instead of defeat, he saw his Captain's eyes spark with fire.

"Watch me," Sam growled with determination. "Open comlink channels."

"They are open, Sir, but the reception is going to be touch and go due to the magnetic field in this asteroid mess," the communication officer warned.

Sam didn't worry, knew that he could reach his brother with only a thought, didn't need technology, hadn't even needed the Force when they were kids. They had always known when they needed each other instinctively. '_And I need you now Dean. I need you to stay with me.' _Because as happy as he had been to hear his brother's voice in his head, he had also sensed Dean's pain…and his hopelessness. Seeing the _Impala_, learning of its damages, Sam understood what had brought his brother to believe there was no hope for survival. That Dean had contacted him, not to give him coordinates so he could rescue him, but to say goodbye.

Angry that Dean would think, even for a second, that he would abandon him, would accept him as a casualty of war, as a means to an end, even to defeat the Dark Side itself, Sam gripped the armrests on his chair. Taking a deep breath of Force calming air, he spoke into the comlink, "Dean? Do you read me?" tried to keep the worry, the uncertainty, the need from his voice because this wasn't just between he and Dean, this was between he and Dean, _his crew_ and _Dean's crew_. Dean would be pissed if he embarrassed him between their subordinates.

As if to prove his point, Dean's voice echoed through the _Stanford'_s bridge, "That's _Captain_ Dean to you or Jedi _Knight_ Winchester."

Sam's smile was blinding, knew Dean had copped that attitude to get just such a reaction from him. "Yeah, right," he snorted. "How about we agree on laser brained idiot?" he taunted back with a laugh, almost giddy with relief that Dean still sounded like Dean, no matter the tight spot they were in. He felt his second in command shuffle on his feet beside him, drew his attention to the rest of his crew that were looking at him nearly slack jawed in disbelief. Knew their disbelief was two fold: that their sometimes uptight Captain was hurling _insults_, over a comlink…to a seemingly destroyed ship and was laughing about it. And they were equally stunned that Dean Winchester, reputed to be hot headed and a wild card of the first order was actually going to take that!? It only made Sam smile harder, because, very few of them had ever seen him and Dean together. Knew that, whatever he and Dean were apart, together they were something else, something better.

And Dean not only took his insult and but laughed at it. His brother's reaction would have been more encouraging had Sam not heard his brother's pain in the verbal gesture, not recognized the painful gasp for breath that it had ended with. "We're almost upon you, Dean," he reassured.

"What?!" Dean's voice barked over the _Stanford_'s bridge. "No, Sam. You're supposed to be bringing up the rear of the convoy."

"Not without you," Sam declared, steel in his every word.

"Sam," and Sam felt sick at the plea, the endearment he heard in his brother's utterance of his name, "There's nothing you can do for me or my crew. Our hangar bay's toast."

"Well, I always wanted to prove that our emergency escape tubing would link to another ship. Guess now's my opportunity," he shot back, seemingly undeterred, trying to smother his doubts in the Force.

"It won't work, Sam. It won't seal, not with this gravity hole we're in. And even if it did hook up to the remains of our hangar bay or an open escape pod compartment, it would detach the first time an asteroid chunk jarred either of our ships," Dean rationally shot down his brother's scheme.

"So we use the Force to keep it together," Sam provided a solution to only one of the problems his brother had ticked off.

"And to keep our ships rock steady too?! Sam, it won't work. Don't try it! Just get your ship out of here before more Imperials swarm in here," Dean ordered, taking on his big-brother- knows-best-for-little-brother tone.

But Sam felt resentment surge in him, knew Dean was wrong. Knew that if Dean was right, he would know that the best thing for "little brother" was not to _lose_ his big brother. "Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try," Sam sallied back, knew he was pushing Dean's buttons, wanted to.

"Do not quote Yoda to me," Dean growled over the comlink. "If these are the last words we share…"

"They aren't," Sam cut him off, his anger and resolve and need obvious to anyone that wasn't his thick headed brother. "I'll tell you when we're in position to seal the tubing to your hangar bay."

"Sam!" but Sam cut the comlink and mentally pulled down his shields. Whatever objections Dean had to him saving his life…he was just going to have to stow them away…until they were face to face.

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TBC

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Thanks to anyone who's still with the story! There are two more chapters to go.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	3. Chapter 3

A Force to be Reckoned With

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: WOW! Thanks so much for the awesome, generous words of encouragement. Loved every one of them!

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Chapter 3

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Body trembling in pain, Dean leaned against the wall in an empty corridor, rested his head against his ship's abused hull and sought to dampen his pain and his doubts about his brother's plan. His pain lessened in a few minutes, his doubts weren't so easily manipulated. Having opted to exchange his ship's comlink for a personal one set to Sam's personal code, he spoke candidly, knew it was just for Sam's ears. "Sam, you don't have to endanger your crew trying this. I knew the risks, every member of my crew knew the risks in joining the Rebellion. That we're outnumbered and our resources are few. That a life lost…it had to count for something. We've made our mark, took out the Cruiser in here, and paved a way for the convoy. We're ready to die for our cause."

Stepping back from overseeing the preparation for the tubing, Sam shook his head, "Well I'm not ready to _let _you die, Dean. This can work, can save you and your crew. Just trust me this time," he implored, needed that trust from Dean, needed his brother's faith in him and in the plan to help bolster his own besieged hope. The tubing, it was proving to be not the least pliable, would need soldering and adjustments had to be made to its internal sealing procedures. Would take time they didn't have…the _Impala_ didn't have. Not with more of her airlocks failing, fires spreading to other sections and the onslaught of the asteroids that were doing their own insidious damage since the last of the ship's deflector shields had been obliterated. "I need you to trust me…." He repeated almost in a desperate whisper.

Never having found an immunity to that tone of Sam's, of need, of fear, of wanting his big brother to tell him everything was going to be alright, Dean rallied his strength, pushed himself off the wall and continued his trek to the escape pod hatch they had determined would be the best fit for the tubing. "Trust you?! Crap, Sam, you're the only one I've ever fully trusted. But our luck…that's what I don't trust. Course life would be boring if nothing exciting ever happened to us."

Sam smirked, was able to draw in a breath seemingly for the first time in an hour. "Course we would **never** want boring."

"Nope. Alright, Captain Winchester, I'm now standing at our designed escape pod hatch and my team's giving me the thumbs up that the rim is prepped for seal containment. How's the tubing look?" Dean asked, patting his crew member on the back as he watched them meticulously scan the hatch, ensure that all was as well on their side of this crazy scheme as it could be. Noting Sam's lack of reply, he ran his hand through his hair, gave his two crewmembers a reassuring smile that didn't reach his eyes and walked down into another empty corridor. "I'm alone, spill it, Sam," he gently encouraged.

Sam, having also slipped into a private room, was glad his brother was as perceptive as he was. That he didn't have to find a way to preamble the news. "The tubing, it's going to take some time to get it ready."

"Time we don't have. You don't have. The Empire's going to start looking for its Cruisers in here," Dean pointed out again, not with rebuff but concern. "Sam, I know you want this to work and it probably could work…"

"Help me **make** it work!" Sam nearly shouted back, grimaced at his raised voice. Dropping his head he murmured, "I'm sorry, I'm just….this can work. Maybe I'm missing something with the tubing. It's meant to be an escape **slide,** not a bridge. It's got this angle to it and only 10 feet of its straight."

"Ten feet…" Dean repeated, making calculations in his head, uncertain if he wanted to help Sam or tell him it was impossible, that he had to get his crew out of the field, had to survive. But the Force, it told him what his brother was feeling, left him with no doubts that… leaving him? That just wasn't something Sam would do, could do. "How good's your pilot over there?"

"I hand picked him myself. Why? What do you have in mind?" Sam shot back, felt a stir of excitement spring to his chest, of resurge of faith that they weren't outmatched, not yet.

"How about we keep our ships at say…a 10 foot distance," Dean suggested, smiled as Sam picked up his logic.

"All I have to do is cut off the angled part of the tubing, use the straight section.." there was excitement churning in Sam's tone, exhilaration at finding a solution, of working with Dean to survive.

"I'm not saying it's a brilliant plan and it's in no way safe. It doesn't matter how great either of our Navigators are or how long we can use the Force to steady the ships, chances are there's going to be some grinding going on and with our ruptures and fires…It will put your ship in danger, Sam. Especially if our internal fires spread to our reactor core, blow the _Impala_ to the seven systems of Hellspawn…"

"Guess we better stop talking and start lining up our ships," Sam cut in, didn't want any pessimistic realism to dampen the hope he had.

"Hey, Sam. If we get out of this…I'm naming my first born child after you," Dean joked, was rewarded by his brother's snort and "Shut up," before the connection was closed.

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"This was a bad idea!" Dean yelled to be heard over the howl of space as its magnetic tug sought to pull everything in the empty, sealed off corridors leading up to the escape pod hatch into its greedy grasp. Including the Winchester stupid enough to don a space suit and work to get the tubing that the _Stanford_ had extended to seal with the pod's rim along side his two crewmembers, likewise dressed.

"It was partially your idea," Sam returned matching Dean's volume, causing his own voice to boom across the quiet expansion of the _Stanford's _hangar bay_. _Hearing the roar of space from his brother's side of the transmission only made him wish more fervently that Dean had assigned someone other than himself to get the tube to seal on their side. But he hadn't even wasted his breath arguing his case, pointing out that, if there was ever a time to delegate, this was it. Knew his words, his plea, it would have fallen on deaf ears. Dean would only let his crew take risks he himself was willing to take. And when the odds were not in their favor, he would risk himself first, wouldn't have even let his two crewmembers join his efforts if he hadn't needed them. Would play the hero even when there seemed only the minuscule chance that victory was even possible. Protective instincts were coiled in Dean's DNA, Sam just knew it. But he was Dean's brother..and the apple didn't fall too far from the tree. "Please tell me you've secured yourself to something, like a bulkhead."

"No…but maybe that's good news for you. After all, I willed you my weapons collection, including Mom's lightsaber," came Dean's rejoinder, utilizing his talent to mix a smart aleck tone with some bitter truths his brother didn't want to hear, ever.

Clutching the comlink tighter in his grip, Sam shook his head, tried to keep his emotions under control even as he cursed his brother's twisted humor and even worse timing for confessions. "You know Dean, what I **really** want is for you to stop stalling and tell me how the sealing process is going on your side."

Holding the tubing in place, Dean turned his head as his crewmember flared the soldering equipment to life and tried once again to produce an airtight seal on the tubing and the escape pod hatch. "Craptastic. We scavenged hunks of our hull and melted them to fill in the gaps but they won't cool down quick enough, just get ripped out the hole because their too pliable. We need an inflexibly strong metal that we can melt and cool immediately. Any ideas?"

"The hull, it's the strongest metal any ship's got on board.." Sam theorized out loud. "What we need is something to get it to cool down. Nitrogen …"

"Tried it. Metal froze yeah…and then shattered into a thousand pieces," Dean said with a sigh, almost tried to run his hand through his hair before he remembered he was in a space suit with stupid helmet and all. So not the look he wanted to go out in.

"I think the science is right but it needs a few seconds for the cells of the metal to bond together again. We need a buffer between the patch work and the outside atmosphere…"

"Something on the _outside_ of the hull…" Dean picked up his brother's train of thought. "We'll reroute all our remaining power to get some juice to revive the deflector shields and we'll pinpoint it to just this area, modify it a little so nothing gets past it, not even say the outside atmosphere."

"It could work.." Sam excitedly supported, right before his ship shook under the assault of another asteroid collision.

Righting himself against the wall, Dean cursed asteroids for the hundredth time that day. Was starting to hate them almost as much as the Empire. Almost. "Well, it's got to work or we'll both be scrap metal." Before Sam could make a reply he ended the signal and activated his internal comlimk and began putting his and Sam's plan into action.

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Standing in the escape pod hatch, sans the space suit, Dean smiled across the length of the tubing at his brother who stood leaning into the tubing from his position on the _Stanford_. "You know this shouldn't have worked," he called across the 10 foot expansion.

"Since when do we obey the rules…even of physics? Now get your butt moving," Sam ordered, wanting Dean to be safe as soon as possible. But true to his nature, Dean winked and stepped out of view…and the first of the _Impala_'s crew started to make the 10 foot trek in the tubing to the _Stanford_. '_Like I honestly thought he wouldn't be the last one to leave his ship._' Sam chided himself. But any pride and condemnation he felt for Dean's action was interrupted by the tremor of his ship as an asteroid slipped past their deflector shields._ 'Crap, concentrate, Sam. You need to hold this ship steady!'_

'_Good thought, Dude. I can't do all the work_,' came his brother's thoughts into his head a second later. Sam wasn't surprised that Dean was privy to his thoughts as if they were uttered aloud. When they were both drowning in an upheaval of emotions, it had come to be a common side-effect, the open channels communication link that could flick on, if they allowed it to. It made them truly only a thought away from each other. But right then, that connection, it wasn't good enough. He wanted Dean really there, at his side, because he could _feel _his brother's pain, his weakness, the strain he was under to wield the Force to keep his ship steady when he had no engines or deflector shields to aid him in his task.

'_I'll help you, Dean_,' he reassured, even as he leant his own Force strength to Dean's efforts. Knew that his task was the easy one, that he had a functioning ship and an uninjured body to work with.

'_Darn right you will. Your Force connection has always been stronger than mine so stop holding out on me_,' Dean returned, sally and truth mixing in his thoughts. Sliding down the corridor wall, closing his eyes, he trembled physically and mentally with the task of keeping the _Impala_ immobile. Felt like he was absorbing the impacts of the asteroids against his own nerves instead of the ship's hull.

'_My connection isn't stronger, Dean_!' Sam protested Dean's misconception, thought it was maybe the right time, the right place to make Dean accept the truth. '_I just accept that I'm a freak. And I think about what you always told me, still tell me in your own twisted ways._'

'_What do_ _I tell you_?'

'_That I'm worth something, that I'm needed, that people… that __you__ have faith in me. If you would believe the same thing about yourself, there would be no stopping you Dean. None.' _Though conviction ran deeply through Sam's thoughts, he felt his brother's wave of denial.

'_Ah, Sam, do we need to hold this therapy session right now. I've got just a few other things on my mind_…'

But Sam cut across Dean's protests, '_You're worth my life, Dean. I need you. And I have faith in you, always have, always will.' _With his admission declared, Sam's breath left him and he felt exposed down to his soul…until he felt that small sliver of response from his brother, of surprise and blossoming joy.

.Unable to truly process his brother's words, let alone allow himself to acknowledge the emotions they generated in him, Dean barricaded himself behind the emergency of the moment with a gruff whiny growl._ 'Dude, stop downloading your halodrama into my head. Maybe you haven't noticed but we got bigger issues to think about than my self image problems.' _As if to punctuate his statement, the ship sustained a not-so-gentle nudge from the huge asteroid that had practically dismantled her, causing the metal to scream and the soldering on the seal to start to whistle with the roar of space.

_'Yeah, like saving your life. So stop short-changing yourself and use the Force like you were meant to Dean!' _Sam's panicked, almost angry voice rang in his head.

With a low howl, Dean put all his essence into steadying the ship, in anchoring it to the Force, in keeping the section intact even as he felt the rear of the ship rip away. Somewhere in his mind, he sensed the line of crew still to be unloaded, knew he had to hold the ship together, steady for at least another ten minutes. Abandoning his misgivings, he surrendered himself fully to the Force, was doing it for his crew, for Sam. Would sacrifice anything for Sam, even his lifeforce. He heard Sam's cry of '_Dean!_' before the Force enveloped him, lent unbelievable strength to his efforts, made even moving the large asteroid away from the _Impala_ possible.

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When his link to his brother just…vanished, Sam internally screamed his brother's name and started to push his way through the throng of _Impala_ crewmembers gathered on his hangar deck, desperate to get to the tubing, to traverse the passageway and enter the _Impala_ to find his brother. Then, like a solar flare, Dean's lifeforce, seemingly reinforced ten fold, washed over him through the Force, coiled around his own lifeforce. Stumbling to a stop amid the chaos on the hangar deck, he drew in a relieved yet struggling breath. Though Dean was risking his life by giving himself over wholly to the Force, he was no longer gone from Sam's perception like he had been a moment ago.

'_I didn't mean you should sacrifice yourself to the Force, Dean!! You always take things one step too far_!' Delving as deep into the Force as he could and still stay conscious, Sam found his brother's lifeforce, gripped it tightly, forged it within his own, anchored his brother to him, gave them both a path out of the Force's gale after their resources were no longer needed to save the lives of their crew, to save each other. '_I'm holding onto you, big brother. I got you and I'll lead you back when it's time.'_

It was disturbing that there was no answering reply from Dean, but Sam consoled himself with the very real essence of his brother that he felt in the Force. Opening his eyes, he stalked to the tubing entrance. "How's the tubing holding up?"

"Got some rips in it but we've patched them enough that they're still holding the seal together," the crewmember answered, hands pressed against the tubing even as he spoke. "Actually, sir, I never thought it would work. Sorry I doubted you."

"Don't be. I doubted me too," Sam returned with a smile and patted the man on the back. "Any idea how many more crewmembers need to come through?"

"We're down to the last hundred, figure we need another ten minutes or so."

The news wasn't the best he could have hope for but, considering the hundreds of crewmembers he had already evacuated, it was still good news. Positioning himself at the tubing, he helped usher the wounded inside and directed the uninjured to sections of the hangar bay to where _Stanford_ crewmembers waited to lead them to quarters. It was organized chaos and Dean would laugh at him for being comforted by the order of it.

To mock his ego, the ship jarred viciously as his attention on the Force became too thin. Cursing himself, he fell back against the wall and shut his eyes tightly, bracing the ship as it was bombarded….not with asteroids but cannon fire. The Empire had found them.

Gritting his teeth, Sam snarled into the Force, '_No! We haven't come this far to lose! Dean, snap out of it and get your butt through the tubing. Now_!' Aloud he barked orders into his internal comlink to his bridge command, "Reroute deflectors to the port side and return fire with torpedoes but keep us steady! We only need a few more minutes!"

But the _Stanford_ took a direct hit right then, causing it to do a small roll, was only a 10% change in its altitude..but it was enough to rip a hole in the tubing. The hangar bay's klaxon blared and the synthetic ship system's voice warned, "Breach in airlock control in Hangar Bay. Breach in airlock control in Hangar Bay," but neither was any competition for the howl of space that screamed through the tubing and into the _Stanford_'s hangar bay.

Leaping forward, Sam ran for the tubing, was going to get to Dean before it was too late. Wasn't prepared to be blocked by his own officers, by men he trusted. Even as he called upon the Force to fling them free of him, the _Stanford_ was struck again. And though he put all of his Force power into steadying the ship, he couldn't stop the asteroid particle that got sucked into the tubing's hole and mercilessly ripped through the other side of the tubing, creating a ravenous cross current.

At the breach in its integrity, the tubing seemingly disintegrated, was blown away in the winds of space.

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Jerked from his emersion in the Force by Sam's swell of terror as much as from a rough shake, Dean opened his eyes, saw his second in command leaning down over him.

"Sir, you have to go through now," the officer insisted, helping his Captain to his feet. He felt worry spike in him at how much of his Captain's weight he was carrying. Knowing, through personal experience, just how incredibly strong and stoic his Captain usually was, even in the face of the most severe pain, only heightened his fear for his commander's health.

"Everyone else through?" Dean asked, knew his words were slurred, shook his head to try and clear the Force cobwebs from it.

"Almost," the officer answered only because he knew he couldn't get away with a full lie, not with a Jedi. "It's your turn, Captain."

"No, not until every last crewmember is through," Dean protested, pulling himself out of his officer's hold and pushing the man forward. "I'll bring up the rear. You go now, tell my brother how many are left to go through." Seeing the man's protest, he growled, "That's an order, officer. Do it!"

For a moment, his loyal second in command looked ready to rebel but then, he simply nodded, gave a salute which earned him a smirk from his laid back Captain and headed off to do as he was bid. Left alone again, Dean walked forward, hand trailing the wall to ensure he didn't embarrass himself by falling on his can. He halted as he saw the line of people left to be ushered into the _Stanford_. It was down to a handful. Sam had done it, had saved his crew, had saved him. '_Crap, Sammy. Maybe I will name my first born after you,' _he smirked and then the Force yelled out a warning to him.

Not one to second guess his instincts or the Force's, he yelled, "Brace yourselves!" even as he took his own advice, wrapped his hand around a handhold, anchored himself to a bulkhead like Sam had wanted him to do earlier. The ship rocked viciously under his feet, slammed him brutally against the wall. But the worst, he discovered a moment later, was yet to come. The breaking of the airlock seal was like an explosion, popped his ears. And then the ravenous gravity of space swept through the _Impala's_ corridors and ruthlessly stole its new treasures into its cold, dead realm.

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Within seconds of the tube's failure, the _Stanford_'s emergency systems did what they were supposed to do: They sealed off any dangerous airlock breaches. Released from the cruel whims of gravity, Sam and his two officers, who were moments away from being dragged into the cold nothingness of space, tumbled to the ground, found themselves only inches away from the now sealed airlock.

"Sir, are you alright?"

Sam heard the words, even registered the concern but he couldn't react. His eyes were on the sealed airlock, on the place where the tubing had been, at the spot he had stood an hour ago and saw his brother standing on the _Impala, _smirking. "Dean?!" he choked out, verbally and through the Force, his voice raw, his thoughts tattered.

But no answer came to his call.

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TBC

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I just had to do a cliffie! You can't write an adventure story without one, right? If it helps, the final chapter is almost ready for posting.

Again, thanks so much for the support you've shown me by the reviews and by just reading this story!!! It's made this scary risk of posting this story into a really good time for me!

Hope you're having a great day! Cheryl W.


	4. Chapter 4

A Force to be Reckoned With

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Here's the conclusion. Hope you enjoy it.

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Chapter 4

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Numbly climbing to his feet, Sam took an unsteady step toward the closed seal. Lightly he traced his hands over the metal, wanting to grasp what had been just beyond his reach a mere hour ago. Was maybe, now, forever beyond his touch. He staggered as his ship groaned as a torpedo lanced across its forward shields. The Empire was about to bring its full measure of weapons against them, he could sense that. But the information barely mattered to him, made him vehemently wish that the Force would instead tell him what he wanted to hear: that Dean wasn't dead.

Head nearly resting against the seal, one palm pressed against the metal, he pulled out his comlink and lowly ordered, "Plot a course out of here, put deflectors on full on our flank but wait to move out for a signal from me."

"Sir…._Sam_, I'm sorry," his second in command's voice came over the comlink, his sorrow unmistakably real for his Captain. He had seen on the bridge monitors the tube's destruction, the bodies of those unlucky enough to have been caught in the tubing when it failed them. Knew that Dean Winchester, he would be the type of Captain that would be the last to debark from his ship, to seek safety for himself.

"Go meet up with the convoy when I give the order. And then, you have command of the _Stanford_," Sam resolutely announced. Drawing in a breath, he pushed away from the seal, began to stalk to a fighter ship renown for its maneuverability and strong deflector shields.

"Sir?! Why are you relinquishing command!" the panicked sound of his second in command rang through the comlink.

"Because I'm going to go get my brother," Sam announced, steel and resolve and need and anger coiled in the declaration, in the promise.

"He's dead!"

At the harsh statement, Sam clenched his teeth, barely held back a curse, fought to wrestle the tide of rage and denial..of darkness from taking control. Hand fisted at his side, he halted midstep, his other hand nearly crushing the comlink in its grasp. "No," he growled, though it felt more like a sob internally, a protest to the unthinkable, to the end of the world he had fought so hard to save, to the light he had waged a war to return to.

Regretting his harshness of his declaration, the second in command amended, voice stammering, "I mean…all reports would seem to indicate that there are no survivors."

'_Then what does it matter if my life is lost too, added to the growing tally? If Dean is dead…._' Sam sorrowfully thought but cut himself off, couldn't even _contemplate_ Dean being gone. Verbally he didn't bother make a reply to his second in command's words. His friend didn't understand, no one had ever fully understood the bond between him and Dean. That to lose one Winchester was to lose them both.

With calm urgency he stalked forward, climbed into the fighter, began preparations to fire the engines to life. "I don't think any of the Empire forces lay in wait ahead anymore but still be careful. Just don't stop until you meet up with the convoy, until you all make a safe jump into hyperspace."

"The _Impala_'s hangar bay…it's gone, Captain! You can't land there."

"You have your orders, officer," Sam levelly returned, firing the engines and launching the small ship from the _Stanford_'s hangar bay. Over the ship's communication line he ordered, "I'm free of the _Stanford._ You have the com. Rendezvous with the convoy, now."

"Yes, sir, Captain sir. May the Force be with you."

"You too," Sam lowly returned before he disengaged the communication, focused on steering the small fighter the short distance through the asteroids and ship debris and cannon fire to the _Impala_. However he envisioned the destruction to his brother's ship, to the hangar bay, it was worse. Fires raged from the ship, the flames licking into the darkness, seemingly defying the artic cold of space. And half of the hangar bay, it had been ripped away, left the ship exposed to the forces of space. With dread, he saw that everything that wasn't bolted down was being swept out of the ship, that he would have to dodge that debris and worry about not being sucked out into space himself once he landed. '_You never do things half way, Dean_.'

Drawing on the guidance of the Force, Sam dove the ship through the fires, plowed through the debris into the damaged hangar bay of the _Impala_. But there he encountered a landscape of dangers: scattered fires, a graveyard of burning, twisted ships, pieces of the _Impala_ embedded in the hangar's deck like some weird form of art, while other pieces continued to fall… in front of him, behind him..on top of him all the while, tools and droids and planes whipped by him, sucked out into space by the gravitational pull. Only a Jedi could have navigated the pitfalls, could have maneuvered a ship through the destruction, force it forward when the engines began to fail and the right wing tip was snapped off by part of the Impala's falling ceiling.

Gritting his teeth, both hands coiled around the control yoke, Sam refused to give up, knew that, if he sat the ship down too far away from the doors to the _Impala's_ inner corridors, he would be, more than likely, swept out into space, him and his ship. Turning past an enflamed Y-Wing he steered his fighter behind a wall, prayed that the more secluded section of the hangar bay would give him some kind of buffer to the pull of space. But even with his incalculable skill, he couldn't dodge the piece of ceiling that fell, found he had no _room_ to dodge it. With a screaming of metal on metal, he watched as his left wing was ripped off from the fuselage of his fighter, found himself struggling with yoke and Force to achieve a controlled crash into the hanger deck.

With a bone jarring impact, the fighter nose dived into the deck..but didn't explode, didn't forfeit its pilot's life, didn't dare oppose a Jedi's determined mission.

Wincing in pain, Sam recalculated his helmet for atmospheric pressure before pushing the ship's canopy away. Slowly but determinedly he inched his way free of the cockpit, ignoring the protest of his aching body. Half sliding, half falling off the still existing left wing, he landed on his back on the hangar bay deck with a groan. Stumbling to his feet, he leaned against his ship, felt the pull of gravity nipping at his clothing as he searched across the horizon of destruction for the door that would lead him to the internal corridor to the _Impala_. Spotting his objective, twenty feet away, across pockets of fire, sizzling ships and ceiling that looked ready to crumble, he gritted his teeth before he started forward, began to zigzag his way through the minefield of devastation. It took longer and came with more effort than he counted on before he finally found himself stumbling against the door he sought. Noting that the control panel was sparking with fire, he used the Force to open the door.

Squeezing through the door and closing it behind him with the Force, he leaned over, braced his hands on his knees, breath ragged through his helmet. Calling on the Force's strength, he felt a surge of energy flow through him and with it renewed determination. Standing up, he removed his helmet, tossed it carelessly aside and started running down the corridor. He had a brother to find.

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When the airlock failed, space's pull of gravity nearly ripped Dean's arm from his socket, left him blowing in the gales as if he were a flag. Holding onto the balkhead merely by his fingertips, knowing that his hold wouldn't last much longer, Dean used the Force to rip a nearby ladder free of its mooring. The ladder flew by him, nearly clipped him on its path toward the yawning hole in the ship. At seemingly the last second, Dean manipulated the ladder enough that it didn't slip out the escape pod hatch but instead braced against it, created a grate across the yawning hole. Before he could congratulate himself on his tactic, his grip slipped free.

Harshly bouncing off the walls of the ship's corridor, Dean rebounded directly into the pod's concave side before he was flung toward the opening in space. "Aghh!!" he groaned in agony as his back slammed against the ladder. Pinned against the ladder braced against the hole, he was prevented from finding himself with a too vivid view of an asteroid field. But the gravity pulled at him with forces that were starting to bend the metal of the ladder, would soon tear his muscles and tendons and bones and skin apart layer by layer.

Knowing he only had minutes, maybe seconds, he thought quickly what could fill the vacuum. He yelled as the pressure seemingly increased, as he felt he was being grated through the ladder. But his brilliance had always been born out of desperation. This time was no different.

Using the Force, he envisioned the outside of the _Impala_, mentally ran along her contours until he found what he sought…a communication dish. Immediately, he set to his task. Straining with the Force, he rip the dish free of its anchor on the hull and, instead of letting it blow away to the four winds, he called it to him…or more precisely to the hole behind him. With all the strength the Force allotted to him, he slammed the dish into the side of his ship, into the escape pod hatch, wedged it there. The makeshift seal greatly diminished the flow of space stealing across the corridor, arrested gravity's cruel intention of taking him apart molecule by molecule.

Unceremoniously, he dropped to the deck as his ship's gravity parameters replaced the void's. He lay there, breathing hard, left cheek pressed against the bitter cold metal of the deck, pain radiating from every nerve, every muscle, from even his hair. But he wasn't foolish enough to think he had won a victory, that it was time to rejoice in the face of a show of mercy from fate. He had no energy to go anywhere and no where to get to. His crew, all of them were gone, some safe on the _Stanford,_ others dead within the first five minutes of breathing in the cold vapors of space.

He was alone.

There was nothing left to fight for, no one left to save. The Force told him all he needed to know: Sam was alive. And, in the end, that was all that mattered. That Sam was alright, that he had not failed his brother.

But his survival instincts, they were still clamoring against his fate, couldn't accept the futility of fighting for another breath of life that would only prolong his agony. As he drifted into unconsciousness, he wondered vaguely if he owed the instincts to the Force or to his Winchester blood. Found he would lay odds that it was the latter. Then the void stole over him.

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Having committed, in the past hour, the _Impala_'s layout to memory, Sam knew where his destination lay but getting to it was proving be a bear. Fires, blown airlocks, levels just…gone. He had to reroute himself, climb up a level and down another, would have been lost had the Force not been there guiding him. As he came to kneel by a vertical hatchway on the floor, his hands trembled as they reached for the handle, knew his journey was nearly at an end..wondered his hope was also about to be distinguished.

He knew the risks, that the vacuum of space could rip him through the hatchway, down the ladder and out the escape pod hatch which had proven itself both a life giver and life taker. But his brother might be there, might still be alive, though the Force gave him no confirmations or denials to his pleas for that miracle. "Guess I have to do things the hard way, find the answers my own way."

Holding his breath, he opened the hatch. Noticed two things immediately: the air, though vastly deprived of oxygen and uttering a whistle of space currents, wasn't a vacuum. And secondly, there was no ladder attached to the hatch. Encouraged, Sam dropped through the hatchway, landed gracefully onto the deck. Heading toward the section where the tubing had once been connected, he sidestepped the debris that was scattered along the corridor and swallowed sickly at the blood on the walls. Fought the urge to reach out, see if he could sense Dean's essence in the blood, in the trace of DNA marked on the ship in drops and pools and handprints.

Instead he fisted his hands, strode forward, dreading and needing answers alike. But his heart pounded in his chest as he turned the corner, knew that one more such turn would bring him to the escape pod hatch. '_There is still hope_,' he told himself, wasn't sure if he believed it or just wanted to. Forcing himself to keep moving, he turned the last corner and stumbled to a halt before he cried, "Dean!" and ran forward, dropped beside his brother's limp form.

Gently but urgently he rolled Dean over to lay across his knees, his brother's body seemingly boneless. Laying his hand on his brother's cheek, he leaned down close to Dean's face, quietly implored, "Dean? Dean?!" At the lack of response, he pulled his brother closer, more firmly into his embrace. "I said I would lead you back when it's time, well it's time. Well past time," he quietly stated, as if it were simply a matter of willpower, Dean coming back to him, staying with him. Then he forced himself to close his eyes, to lose sight of his brother's too pale features. Surrounding himself with the Force, he sought out his brother's unique light amid the brightness. With his brother lying so still in his arms, each moment he waited for some spark, some sign, some proof of life in Dean felt like an eternity.

Holding his breath, Sam felt his own heart slow as if he was in a Jedi trance, was teetering between life and the Force._ 'Who say's I'm not. If Dean's gone…' _but he couldn't finish that thought, knew he wasn't ready to submit to the universe, wasn't willing to surrender his brother to it. Not yet, not when Dean had so much he could still teach him, not when he greedily clung to the mirth that only his big brother could generate in him, not when he **needed** the light Dean provided. '_Dean, for once in your life, let me take the lead. Follow me home,' _he implored, head coming to rest on Dean's forehead, arms gathering his brother more tightly into his hold, refusing to let the Force have his brother.

The answer was a pliable, weak. '_Sammy?'_

Sam's head snapped up, his eyes anxiously searching his brother's still lax features, praying it wasn't just a voice from the Force echoing to him. "Dean?" the name choked, imploring, pleading.

'_I'll follow you_.'

Nearly laughing in joy at the sound of his brother's voice in his head, Sam immersed himself in the Force, found the strand of light he knew better than his own soul. Reaching out with all of his being he coiled his soul around the strand of Dean's light, fused them together and, like a drowning man, struggled to the surface, his brother in his grip. Fought against the currents, defied the odds as he broke to the surface of consciousness, to air, to the world that still existed.

Dean came back to consciousness, to life with a gasp of air and arched in the arms that held him. Though he didn't open his eyes, the voice that greeted him instantly stilled his turmoil.

"Easy, Dean. I got you, big brother. Just breathe for me, alright," Sam soothingly cooed, couldn't fight the tears of joy and relief gathering in his eyes as he looked down at his brother.

Doing as Sam asked, Dean pulled in another breath, tried to ride out the pain, felt his brother's hand slip into his. Squeezing Sam's hand, he got a handle on the pain enough to open his eyes and keep them open, to see Sam hovering over him, wearing a goofy, happy smile that Jedi Knights weren't supposed to sport. Ever. But when had Winchesters ever cared about decorum.

"How? Ship.." he gasped, couldn't find enough air to verbalize the rest, left it to his internal communication with his brother. '_How did you get here? The ship, she's in her dying throes_. _Why are you here_?!' Because he knew where he was, that he wasn't on some cushy space port recuperating, could feel the Force chanting, '_danger, danger, danger'_ in a continuous loop in his head.

Holding his brother in his arms, the _Impala_ rocking under him, the low whistle of space humming in his ear, Sam couldn't hold back his smile, his smirk. "What can I say, I got lonely for your company."

"We need…to .." Dean wheezed, hand tightening in his brother's grip while his other hand latched onto the front of Sam's black Jedi tunic.

"Leave," Sam finished, didn't want his brother to use up all his energy. "Yeah, about that…" and he smiled, sadly now, had no intentions of verbalizing their fate. For him, it was enough that he was there, that he was with Dean. That was peace enough for him. Was more than he thought he would deserve a few months back.

Dean's brow creased, read Sam's mind as if he had spoken. Found out what Sam had wanted to omit…that he had ditched his critically damaged fighter craft into the hangar bay, that the hangar bay was destroyed, along with any ships once parked there. Sam had wanted to protect him from the bleakness of their situation. '_As if I don't already know that_.' But at his brother's kindness, at the sight of Sam there, with him, both encouraging him and terrifying him with his presence, he managed to pull on a smirk. "Plan B then?"

Sam laughed and it was a real one. "B?! I think we're about on Plan Z, Dean."

"Help me up," Dean ordered but his voice was weak didn't convey the strength it had always carried. That didn't mean Sam didn't obey it out of loyalty, out of love. With careful, slow motions he slid his arm across Dean's shoulders and eased his brother into a seated position. Dean's gasp of pain and the way he gripped onto his knee for leverage, for an anchor to stay upright told Sam how painful the action had been. Arm wrapped around Dean, hand coiled around his brother's forearm, Sam sat there calmly, waiting for his brother to work through his pain, to open his eyes and tell him Plan Z. And Dean didn't have to _know_ that he was leaking some of his own Force healing power into their connection.

"Stop it," Dean tiredly groaned before he looked at Sam, caught the flush of being caught red handed on his brother's cheeks. "Don't deplete your energy on playing medic, Sam."

"How I "deplete" my energy is my business, Dean," Sam countered but there was profound affection immersed in his defiant words. "So plan Z?"

"Since the hangar bay is a ship graveyard…I got a crazy idea," Dean looked at Sam, waited for the jab that never came. The old, 'you with a crazy idea?!" shtick. "What, no jokes, no doubts?"

"Ah, Plan **Z**, Dean. I'm all for crazy as long as we live to talk about it," Sam answered truthfully, knew Dean's crazy plans..they were sometimes some of the best.

Nodding, but stopping almost instantly with a wince, Dean lowly said, his pain evident, "On the level above the hangar bay, there's an old relic of a ship that the science section was using for research. Last damage control report I had, the level was still intact."

"Alright, then we got to get you on your feet and in motion…or do you want me to carry you?" Sam smiled at the glare Dean leveled at him. Sure, they were down but they weren't out, not yet. Wouldn't be if their stubborn Winchester willpower had anything to say about it.

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Sam leaned Dean's sagging form against the hull of the relic ship and thought the description was only too apt. "This thing was probably a relic when we were just kids," he bit out even as he scanned her with his eyes, ran a hand down her hull. "But she seems sturdy enough. You sure the engines will fire?"

"Someone flew her into the hangar bay and we hydro-lifted her from the bay to here," Dean tiredly explained, felt his legs go even as Sam rushed to his side and gripped his arms, kept him off the deck. "The real problem isn't this ship," he drawled, letting his knuckles fall back to knock on the fighter plane's hull. "It's the hangar bay, right?" his eyes piercing Sam's, wanting, demanding the truth.

Instead of answering, Sam asked his own, "So how do we lower this ship down into the hanger bay?" his eyes leaving Dean's to scan the walls for a control panel even as his grip on his brother didn't waiver.

Sam's avoidance of the real issue made Dean stiffen, made him seek to read his brother's thoughts, to recall the mechanics of how Sam came to be on the _Impala_, what he had risked to come to him. Sam's memories came to him sharply, clearly, brutally. "Crap, Sam.." he breathed, the jolt of the danger, the _miracle_ that Sam hadn't died flying into the hangar bay making him slump forward, to be caught in Sam's arms, his head to rest against his brother's collar bone.

"Dean!?" Sam called in worry, full focus returning to Dean, hands holding his brother tighter, pressing his brother's body more firmly against the relic's hull even as he welcomed the weight of Dean against him. "What's happening?! What hurts?"

"Shouldn't have come here…" Dean wheezed out, fingers clutching Sam's tunic, eyes clamped closed trying to shut out the images of what could have happened to Sam..what could still happen to him. Because of him, his failures. Realized harshly that he might not have saved Sam after all, might have instead condemned him to the same fate as his own.

Though his brother's words were quiet, barely reached his ears, Sam's soul heard them clearly, picked up his brother's thoughts easily. "I'm your brother, Dean. Where else would I be, huh?" his affection and warmth not bleeding away the determination in his words. Bending down slightly, he slipped his hand under Dean's chin, raised his brother's head until their eyes met. "Now stop being a pessimist and help save our butts. Mine and yours."

Knowing that hindsight couldn't save them, that it was still his duty to save Sam, Dean gave a small nod. Reinforcing his strength, he leaned away from Sam, would have fallen against the ship had Sam not maintained his hold, eased him back to lean against the ship's hull. "Control's are over there," he said, nodding his head to the left, watched as Sam looked that way, squinted to try and determine the readings from where he stood. Dean gave a small chuckle, "Less you learned how to improve your eyesight for long range, you can't read the control panel from here Sam. Go check it out," he ordered, standing upright, though he still leaned against the ship, hoped to convince Sam that he was Ok, could stand on his own.

Giving Dean an examining look, Sam hesitated, didn't want to leave Dean's side, not when the ship, when fate could kill them any moment now. Wanted to be there with Dean, as close as he could if the end should come for them. As if sensing his fears, his brother stood up straighter, gave him a pat on the chest.

"Move it, Sam. Maybe you haven't noticed but my ship's becoming one with the asteroid field. So unless you want the next Imperial ship to run into parts of _us_ in the atmosphere, I suggest you figure out how to get this bucket of bolts into the hangar bay."

Despair bolstered by Dean's cockiness, Sam smirked, tightened his hand in Dean's Jedi tunic a moment before he released his grip, ran for the control panel across the room.

With Sam's strength gone, Dean faltered, fell against the wing of the old fighter plane but kept his feet…until the Impala lurked viciously to the right. Falling hard onto the ground, Dean's breath whooshed out of him and on his first renewed breath he groaned, heard the Impala reciprocate his verbalization, though hers was more ominous, spoke of metal contorting…and dying. "Sam, hurry up!" he shouted, pushing himself up into a seated position, hands reaching for the wing to lever himself to his feet, almost jumped when arms wrapped around his ribs from behind him and he was hauled to his feet.

"Time to leave," Sam announced hurriedly, unceremoniously giving Dean a push on the butt to hoist him up the side of the plane to reach the cockpit.

"Watch your hands, Wookie!" Dean disgruntly growled, even as he hauled himself into the cockpit, dropped heavily into the navigator/fire control seat with a painful groan. Before he registered Sam's presence, his brother's hands were reaching in and latching his harness into place. "Sam I got it!" he snapped, shoving his brother's well meaning hands aside. "Get in and drive this thing!"

Undeterred, Sam again reached for his brother's last snap, heard it click into place and gave it a tug to ensure it was secure before he slid into the pilot's seat. It hit him then, that Dean hadn't insisted on piloting the craft, was letting him do the honors. It spoke of how very injured Dean was, made the next words come out of him instinctively, because big brothers weren't the only ones who were protective. "You're going to be Ok, Dean. I'm getting you out of here."

Brow creasing at Sam's pledge, Dean countered, "Ah, yeah. Thought that was the plan, getting both of us out of here."

Sliding the cockpit canopy closed, Sam used the Force to flick the correct nozzle on the control panel across the room, felt the hiss of the hydraulic lift even as he returned, "That's the plan, alright. Let's just hope the Force is with us."

"If it's not, this will be a short trip," Dean mumbled but before Sam could reply, he slipped into officer mode, became second in command to Sam's Captain. "I've got the readouts up. Thing doesn't have much in the way of deflector shields and the communication range is short, won't make much squawk in the asteroid field." Dean replied, all officer now,

They both felt the fighter ship tremble as it was lowered, watched as the gravitational pull loose in the hangar bay leaked into the science room, created a tornado of air that swept up beakers, and chairs and cabinets. Both brothers ducked automatically as a cabinet nearly clipped the canopy over their heads.

"At this pace, this ship will be toast before we enter the hangar!" Dean shouted, as the ship began to be pelted by the objects in the science wing, big and small.

"Hang on!" Sam ordered as he overrode the safety precautions on the lift and they swiftly plummeted to the next deck down even as Sam fired up the engines, prayed that the relic did indeed still have the good sense to function. Inches from a harsh impact with the hangar deck, the engines caught and Sam pulled up on the yoke, kept this ship from nose diving onto the deck like his last one.

But the view outside his viewport…it was a wall of fire. "Dean…" he called, needing help, wanting Dean to have a way out.

"Ah, that's not good," came Dean's voice from behind him. "Alright, let's think." Sam could hear his brother flipping switches, felt his brother's mind running through a thousand scenarios, was about to plead with Dean to speak, to say something, anything, even if it was goodbye, when Dean spoke.

"This baby has a plasma flarebomb," excitement in his tone that Sam didn't understand.

"And that's the good news?"

"Fight fire with fire, Sammy. We set it to explode in that wall of fire, it'll blow the fire out, well at least long enough for us to make it through. Course then it'll cause a chain reaction, take out this hangar like a ten ton sonic bomb…will tear the _Impala_ apart," a hint of remorse in his tone, in the implications that it would be at his hand that this ship would meet its demise.

"Dean, nothing's going to save the Impala now but its destruction can help to save us. Like you said, our losses have to count for something," Sam gently pointed out, feeling his brother's emotions easily through their link, just as he felt Dean's physical pain, insistently pushed a portion of his Force strength to Dean, to help lessen the agony his brother was in.

"Don't quote me, Sammy," Dean warned even as his trembling hands prepared the plasmabomb.

"Should I go back to quoting Yoda?" Sam taunted, felt a lighteness in his soul, wondered if it would be the last thing he felt, knew what a gift it was, that family was, that his brother was. Laughed at Dean's bark of "Do and die."

"Alright, Sam. When I release the bomb, we'll have five seconds before she explodes. I figure she'll eat up the oxygen in the fire and shut it down but only for a thirty second window then she'll go red-hot almost instantly."

"Thirty seconds, huh? That long," Sam drawled, even as he gripped the yoke, readied his muscles for the action ahead, trusted his brother's calculations fully.

"You ready?" Dean's quiet, concerned voice came to him, filled him with peace.

"Long as we go together, I'm ready for anything," Sam honestly admitted, didn't want what could possible be his last words to Dean to be a smoke screen, to be anything but the truth.

"You're such a girl," Dean laughed back but his thoughts raced across their currents as if Dean himself had sent them to Sam. '_Me, too, little brother_.' "Bomb away…Now," he announced, pushing a bottom, saw the streak of the rocket from over Sam's shoulder. Then it was like a light show across his retinas followed by a beautiful increasing hole of black space..right in the center of the wall of fire. He was propelled back in his seat as the ship rocketed forward, tore through the hole in the firewall…and nearly collided with the hulking remains of three, once impressive, fighters.

Sending the old fighter into a half roll, Sam skimmed vertically through the carcass of the ships with mere inches to spare. He righted his fighter only to send it lurching to the right as a piece of ceiling dropped into his path. Skimming over a low burning fire and scoring the wing on a pile of burning metal that had once been a transport ship, Sam aimed the ship toward the relative openness of space.

Freed of the Impala's deadly hangar deck, Sam cursed as he found out that, what had appeared, through the _Stanford's_ viewport, as an easily maneuverable maze of asteroids, was in fact, a dense blanket of rocky debris. With no _Stanford _only 10 feet away…or even in sight, with no safe destination in range..at all, the obstacles seemed overwhelming. Made a flare of resentment burn in him that his orders had been followed to the letter by his second in command.

Knowing that it was up to him, that Dean's life, and his own was in his hands alone, he wrapped his fingers tighter around the fighter's control yoke. He twisted and looped and banked around the obstacles in his way, opened fire with the weak weapons of the ancient craft upon the sections he couldn't squeeze by. But even with his skill, his Jedi's instincts on high alert, his ship was rocked unmerciful as it was scored and pelted and bombarded by asteroids and debris from the destroyed Imperial ship..not to mention parts of the dying _Impala. _

Internally, Dean had been counting down, but began to speak aloud. "Twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven , twenty eight…". The Impala's explosion tore his words from him, sent their fighter ship forward on a wave of heated energy, sent them colliding with chunks of asteroid and pelted them with scrap metal from one of the Rebellion Alliances' most infamous ships. Lending his Force strength to Sam's, he helped his brother regain navigational control on their ship, to override the asteroid field's disrupted currents and dodge a fast moving piece of cruiser-sized asteroid.

Finally drawing in a breath of air, his hands practically numb from their desperate grip on the control, Sam said, his voice teetering between hysteria and hope, even happiness, "Well, now all we have to do is dodge a million pieces of asteroid, blindly find our way out of the field and limp home without a hyperdrive."

"You shouldn't have come for me, left your ship, Sam. You could lose your Captaincy over this," Dean quietly said, his worry evidently for his brother, not himself, not for their chances of survival.

"You're worried about my career when we probably won't ever make it home alive again?!" Sam incredulously retorted, knew Dean thought his career mattered more to him than he did but having it verbalized still angered him. Especially after what they had both been through, after thinking Dean was dead…that they were both going to die, still could.

"What happened to 'do or do not, there is no try'?" Dean taunted, needing to lighten the mood, to ease Sam's anger.

"Shut up," Sam laughed back. "You totally know that shouldn't have worked, right? We should be dead already. Be just some one line mention in the Jedi annuals."

"If you can't be lucky…" Dean began.

Sam joined him on the punch line, "Then you better be a Winchester."

A beat of silence feel in the ship and an asteroid rocked them aft before another sent them careening starboard. It was only Sam's instincts that allowed them to dodge a spinning asteroid larger than the _Impala_. "Sooner or later..that won't be enough," Sam gravely predicted, knowing it could be that day, even after every obstacle they had so far overcome.

But before Dean could make a reply, their ancient communication equipment crackled to life.

"This is _Impala_'s Scavenger Squad. You guys look lost. You need some directions and an escort home…"

Dean laughed, cockily said to his brother, "But its enough today." Then he opened up the comlink and heartily welcomed his X-Wing squadron's help.

SNSWSNSWSNSWSNSWSNSW

The members of the old Jedi Council, they wouldn't have believed their eyes at the sight in the medic ward. Not only was **one** infamous "over exuberant" Winchester lacking in motion, but they both were. One in a medic bed and the other seated at his side, one bound in a worried vigil and the other immersed in a healing trance. But it would have surprised none that the Winchester brothers were **together**.

Sensing a change in his brother's breathing, Sam snapped his head up from the report he was scanning and he reached out to grip Dean's wrist, could feel the pulse quicken under his fingers. Discarding the report carelessly until the floor, he carefully claimed a seat on the bed beside his brother's legs. Moving his hand to rest lightly on Dean's chest, he intently watched as his brother's features twitched with signs of awakening. Knowing that coming out of a healing trance was confusion and pain and senses slowly resetting themselves, he tried to send calming waves of the Force to his brother even as he softly said, "Dean, it's Sam. You're safe. We both are. We're back at the base," he reassured, poured the words into the Force as well as the natural audible spectrum.

After a few false starts, Sam saw his brother's green eyes open and focus on him. "Hey," he breathed, his voice as gentle as his relieved smile.

"You alright?" Dean hoarsely asked, coming back to himself, to the here and now, to his haggard little brother at his side.

"Yeah," Sam answered aloud but knew Dean heard the qualifier '_Long as you are_.' "How about you? Have that bacta headache like you usually do?"

Wanting to conceal the warmth that flared in him at the knowledge that Sam knew him so well, Dean growled, "What do you think?!" But his growl was a weak, half drown kitten kind of growl.

At his brother's gruff, albeit weak, retort, Sam felt his smile brighten. Dean was going to be just fine. Removing his hand from his brother's chest before it really registered with Dean that it was there and he got all belligerent, Sam sat back a little straighter but didn't relinquish his position on the bed. If Dean didn't like his closeness, well then Dean should learn not to try his darnest to get himself killed next time.

In silence, Sam watched Dean run a hand over his face, draw in a deep breath and then begin to inch himself up into a sitting position. Nonchalantly, Sam used the Force to flick the bed switch on so it elevated his brother into a slightly seated angle even as he gently but persistently pressed his hand against Dean's shoulder until his brother was lying back against the raised mattress. His gestures earned him a glare but that only served to chase away more of his worry for his brother.

"They are going to give you a medal," Sam announced while Dean was busy fussy with the covers.

At the unexpected statement, Dean jerked his eyes up to Sam's, felt worry even anger building in him. "What about you?! Our crews?!" indignant that they were overlooking the real heroes.

Sam sadly shook his head, not in denial but frustration. He had anticipated this: Dean wanting the praise to land on everyone but himself. Picking up his brother's hand, he pressed his own medal into his brother's still feeble grasp. "Got this yesterday…" At Dean's raised eyebrow, he continued, "along with commendations for both of our crews. I wanted them to hold off on the ceremonies until you were awake but we're moving this base as we speak. Picking at non-existence lint on his brother's blanket, he offhandedly said, "The Empire's pretty pissed about our victory at that asteroid field."

"Victory?!" Dean hesitantly asked, dropping his head to seek out Sam's eyes. He knew he had played right into his brother's hands when Sam raised his eyes and he saw the sparkle in them, heard Sam's laugh.

"Yeah, the Imperial ships followed our convoy through the asteroid field and found themselves bombarded by a storm of asteroid chunks and pieces of two Imperial cruisers. I think you know something about that…" Sam felt like he had stored a victory himself when Dean smirked cockily. "They suffered 80% casualties and retreated, tail between their legs."

"How were our losses? Yours and mine?" Dean persisted, understood that he should care about the greater good but, for him, it always came down to protecting the people he cared about.

Sam's earlier mirth faded away, was replaced with sorrow, knew how the loss of one crewmember would affect his brother. "There were one hundred and seven lost on your ship, fifteen on mine. The convoy itself lost three ships."

Gutted by the number of lives lost on his ship, Dean knew at the same time, that it was a miracle his ship wasn't numbered among the lost, that his whole crew wasn't gone now. Knew that his miracle…was sitting beside him right now. "Thank you, Sam. You saved my crew…and me," his eyes earnestly held his brother's.

"Don't mention it," Sam shyly replied, fidgeted a little under his brother's proud gaze. "Anyway," he drawled, a lightness coming into his tone, "everyone's in an uproar over deciding if you'll get the Captaincy of the new Corellian ship or the modified…"

"Neither," Dean gruffly cut in, shaking his head, jaw clenched and features set.

"What?" Sam quietly prodded, didn't understand the answer or the emotion in his brother's eyes.

Facing Sam, Dean curtly stated, "I'm resigning my Captaincy, Sam. I can't take on the responsibility of all those lives again. Can't make the decisions I need to…"

"Reckless decisions, you mean," Sam surmised, heat in his tone and the look he seared into his brother. "You want to have free leave to risk your life…just your life. Dean.." but a shrill beep from his comlink cut off his reprimanding words. Glaring at Dean, his look promising that their conversation wasn't over, far from it, Sam answered the prompting. "Captain Winchester here."

Sorry for disturbing you, Captain Winchester but we need to talk about your decision," came one of the Rebel Alliance general's voice through the comlink. "I know you were resigning your Captaincy to be your brother's second in command but having two Jedi Knights on one ship…Well, honestly, it's an embarrassment of riches. The council and I ask that you please reconsider your actions and take back your rank."

At the General's revealing words, Sam quickly averted his eyes from Dean's. But with the cat, literally out of the bag, he couldn't help do a quick sweep to his brother's face, to try and determine what Dean was thinking. He felt his face blush at Dean's raised eyebrow of surprise and question. For a moment, he was floundering, and then, like a sign from the Force, his path, their path was clear. He smiled boldly, loved that Dean's look of big brother confidence swiftly changed to wariness. "Well it seems you don't have to worry. There won't be two Winchesters on one ship." Watching Dean's features tighten, he pressed on, "My brother and I are taking up the council's call for a two man scout team to do reconnaissance in the outer rim and inside the Empire held planets."

"Huh," Dean grunted back in surprise. Instantly he felt tension slip from him, felt a wave of satisfaction, of contentment take its place. Settling back in his bed, he barely heard the rest of Sam's conversation with the General, just sat there and watched Sam's expression. Tried to determine when his brother had changed, had switched from officer on the way up the ranks to being the guy he could count on to have his back, to being the only person in the known worlds that he would _want_ to have his back.

Ending his conversation, Sam tossed the comlink on the table beside the bed and faced his brother, was ready and willing to defend his decision until all the stars burned out. But his brother's expression made his words catch in his throat. Dean was looking at him…with a warm smile and an affectionate, happy look in his eyes that hadn't been around since the Clone Wars, since he had had to do mortal combat with his own treading-on-the-Dark-Side brother. "Dean…" Sam choked out, uncertain of his footing, of their footing. "I want… I didn't mean to make your decisions for you…I just thought.." Through his stammering, Dean remained uncharacteristically quiet but his smile didn't waiver, nor did the light in his eyes diminish.

"Thought you said we could do more for the cause captaining ships…if we were apart. That we couldn't be selfish," Dean softly repeated Sam's rationale when they had both joined the Rebel Alliance.

Sam gave a weak shrug, his eyes down a moment before they sought Dean's, conveyed his emotions before his words did. "Us both captaining our own ships…being apart…It might do better for the Alliance…but it didn't do me any favors," he confessed, his smile sad even as his eyes were beseeching, asking Dean to understand him, to agree with him, to see the truth in his words. At seeing that Dean's soft look hadn't turned to disgust, had instead deepened with greater affection for his little brother, Sam smirked, "Sides, thought you knew already…I'm a selfish jerk."

Dean gave a half smirk, "I heard a rumor about that.." and his eyes held Sam's in an unbreakable grip, "Didn't believe it for a second," he finished, his words, his sentiments, his beliefs set in stone, as hard and implacable as his lightsaber blade. Sam's smile and shining eyes told him that Sam had gotten the message, loud and clear. "But before we strap on our lightsabers and head to the outer rim, we have to get one thing clear between us."

Sam stiffened but was ready to concede to any terms his big brother stipulated, would do anything to not lose the invaluable gift of being at his brother's side from here on out. "What's that?" he asked because Dean would expect a protest, for him to put up some kind of struggle, even if they both knew he had already mentally replied, '_I would do anything for you, Dean.'_

Pulling on his most cocky smile, Dean set down the law. "I'm the oldest so if I ever tell you to leave me behind again, you listen to me."

"Never happen," Sam said merrily as if they were words of agreement. The smile on his face lit up the room like a new sunrise on a planet with two suns, was in sharp counterpoint to Dean's scowl. "N.E.V.E.R. H.A.P.P.E.N," he slowly enunciated, knew that it was an oath he wouldn't break, ever. …Anymore than Dean would. As Dean started to rail in protest, he cut in, "Give it up, Dean. Like our Masters used to say…We Winchesters are a Force to be reckoned with. So you might as well concede and save yourself the aggravation."

"They said that about you," Dean sniped back but he offered up no more words of protest. "You sure this is what you want, Sam? You're officially a war hero, could climb up the ranks pretty quickly, get stationed somewhere permanent…well as permanent as this ragtag army is likely to have," his voice gentle, needing to make sure Sam knew he had a million better options. Wanted to prove to Sam that his big brother wasn't going to strong-arm him anymore about his choices in life. Not anymore, not since Sam had found his own path in life. But more than that, Dean needed Sam to know that he didn't need his big brother to keep him in the Light …that he _was_ the Light.

Sam felt warmth ripple through his soul at his brother's words, at his offer to let him go his own way, at the belief his brother had in him, in the future he could have…if he wanted it. "This is what I want, Dean," he fervently pledged, needing Dean to know this was his choice, was what would make him happy, hoped it would make them both happy. "Just you and me in a ship, cruising the outer rim, looking for trouble and finding it.." he said with a smirk and a lightness in his soul that was only spreading wider and deeper.

Dean felt whatever darkness that had found harbor in his own soul flee at the brightness now emanating from Sam's soul in the Force. Knew that they had both traveled, together and apart, paths that they were never meant to. "I pick the music," he declared and only smiled wider as Sam began to make his protest.

But even amid their bickering, for the first time since the Jedi order had nearly been wiped out, they both had hope in the path ahead. And that path…they would travel it together and it would not lead into Darkness ever again.

SNSWSNSWSNSW

The End.

SNSWSNSWSNSWN

You guys have been awesome to join me as I weaved this AU tale! Thanks for your wonderful compliments and encouragement.

May the Force be with you…ah ok, how about…Have a wonderful Day!

Cheryl W.


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